


i'll be coming slower down

by ineachandeveryway



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Boys Kissing, M/M, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7470324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineachandeveryway/pseuds/ineachandeveryway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What is with you and my mouth?” Lance snaps, annoyingly accusatory.</p><p>Keith retorts, defensive, “I was giving you CPR.” He’s already so over this conversation, and it hasn’t even started.</p><p>—or, Keith/Lance + 30 kisses challenge, part two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. truth or dare

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up at around 11 o'clock this morning; it's now 5 o'clock, which means I've been thinking about these two kissing, making out, and sexing it up for approximately six hours. Well. 
> 
> This work is going to remain in the "safe for work" territory for the time being, but that may change in the future. Just a heads up!

In retrospect, every last part of Lance's demise at the hand of this God-awful game is Pidge's fault. The clever, little techno geek is just aching for some fun, and it's only expected that she drag them all into a game of life-and-death decisions. And although Lance isn't really interested in playing at first, when Allura suggests that she's never played before and would like to know the gist of things, he's more than willing to be the one to do the explaining and demonstrating. (Keith visibly rolls his eyes in the distance but follows nonetheless, intrigued by the thought of playing at the others' secrets and wills.)

"So," Hunk says, teasing gaze directed at Lance, who offered to play first. They're all gathered in the main room, seated in a circle while Coran watches from out of the corner of his eye. "Truth or dare?" 

This decision is easy. There's not a thing in the world that Lance has to hide, and seeing as they're in space, to choose to perform a dare would be nothing short of stupid. He turns to Hunk and smirks, unabashed. "Truth." 

"Okay, um. . ." The Yellow Paladin disappears into deep thought. It seems like hours pass in the time it takes him to think of something substantive, and Keith, born (to no surprise) with a very demanding sense of impatience, finally blurts out in his stead: 

"Have you ever kissed someone?" 

Lance does a double take. He wasn't expecting to be asked something so petty, given the fact that they're intergalactic saviors with more immediate concerns than someone's romance trivia. But considering it's Keith on the other end, he's not entirely thrown off-guard—or he's trying not to be, desperately, even as a lump forms in his throat and sweat beads on his neck. 

"Once," he lies, eyes downturned. 

"Oh, yeah?" prods Pidge, intrigued. "Who?"

"Some girl back home, you wouldn't know her." 

Shiro, who up until now has been content with just observing, cuts in out of genuine curiosity: "What was her name?" 

It takes a moment for Lance to come up with one. There are so many he can choose from, after all; the female mystique practically rules over his extended family. "Maricella," he answers finally, settling on his grandmother, who he kissed not but five months ago, on her wedding anniversary. (His grandfather has been dead for some time, so the tradition is to have a different family member kiss her each year in his stead.)

The boys appear to be okay with this answer, to Lance's relief. He starts formulating as embarrassing a question for Keith to tackle as they all turn to face him, but then Pidge makes an incoherent sound, yelps, "Wait! Isn't that your grandmother's name?" 

 _"Pidge!"_  

Lance's face turns to a mortifying scarlet as he fumbles for words. The looks on each of his teammates' faces are successive punches to the gut: Shiro and Hunk stare at him out of unadulterated pity, while Keith and Pidge do a poor job of hiding their snickers. Allura simply seems confused, and she turns to Coran to question why kissing one's grandmother can be considered so worthy of disappointment. "Oh, it's not worthy at all, Princess. Or at least, if you've kissed anyone else, it shouldn't be." 

A groan escapes Lance as he drags his hands over his face and descends into a complaining bout of mumbling, which is broken minutes later by an uncalled-for interjection from Keith. 

"Since this is probably going to be on your mind and _mouth_ for all of eternity, why don't I go ahead and end your misery?"

Lance looks up, confused and a little offended by Keith's proposition. It's embarrassing enough that the closest thing he's had to a kiss is the pucker of his grandmother's lips. He doesn't need his arch-nemesis to add on to his all-consuming stupor. He mumbles a sordid "what?" in response, and the Red Paladin rolls his eyes.

"I'm saying I'll kiss you," Keith clarifies. Lance nearly chokes. 

"Wh— _at?!"_

"We've been on this ship for what—seven months already?" Keith ticks the time off on his fingers. "You haven't kissed a girl once. Face it, your best bet is one of us." 

"And that one has to be  _you?"_ Lance retorts, supremely offended. "Why— Why not Allura? Or even Pidge?" 

The Altean princess turns within a matter of seconds to Coran, coordinates and names of planets falling off of her lips in an attempt to dissociate herself from the conversation. Pidge doesn't appear to be so eager of carrying out the suggestion either, though she is more verbal about it than the former: "Sorry, but no." Keith looks at Lance in what can be called satisfaction, smugness, maybe a combination of both. The fact that the Paladin wants to kiss him this badly has Lance's mind whirling. 

"There's other girls out there," he mumbles dejectedly, "I have hope." 

"I doubt it," Keith answers, suddenly a lot closer. His bangs mix with Lance's, and the latter lets out a frustrated huff as his rival's shit-eating grin comes into close view. There's so many things that are wrong about this, the lack of strawberry-flavored lip gloss being a prominent one. Shiro also happens to be paying close attention to the rivalry-induced display, and that makes Lance feel like he wants to remove himself from the face of the Earth. "Do it fast," he spits out, looking away, resigned to his fate. 

When the tiny little peels of skin dotted all along Keith's chapped lips make contact with his, Lance sucks in his breath. The movement is quick, as he requested. He barely even registers it before Keith moves back to his spot, at the other end of the circle. A desire to lick his lips, to feel the way Keith's briefly chafed against his, overcomes him. Lance touches two fingers to his mouth in the aftermath—

—and though the wonder fades quickly, the muscle memory does not. 

 


	2. mouth to mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every time I reread this chapter I have flashbacks to the time in Naruto when Sakura tried to give him CPR, and how half of the fandom called it a kiss and the other fandom called the former half idiots for saying so. Times were wild. They still are. What's new?
> 
> Also, this was originally just going to be random kisses (in chronological order, admittedly), but after this chapter, I think I'm going to give the fic a little more continuity. Just FYI.

It all happens much too quickly for Keith to process.

One minute, they're gliding through the air, a well-oiled machine; the next, coming apart at the seams. He can't even make a connection between the two moments, the in-between is so electrically charged and jarring. (A side effect of the Galra tech they just combated, most likely.) 

Keith's gaze sharpens as his eyes catch onto something catapulting through the air. Not ten seconds later, he disregards forethought—as always—and vaults into action, his thumb flicking the autopilot before he makes his exit.

His Lion hovers hundreds upon hundreds of feet above the surface, but Keith realizes that this distance in the air is nothing compared to even a quarter of it in the water. The winds rush restlessly by, and he dives off the muzzle's edge, allowing himself to be carried to his target. As Lance's unconscious body is flung towards the sea, Keith centers his weight and makes his aim, not far behind. 

The impact of the crash stuns him, center outward. Keith blinks his eyes rapidly, desperate to focus. What little color he can pick out blurs together, and he strains to catch sight of a particular shade of cadet blue. Lance's blue. 

 _Separate and scatter,_ echoes Shiro's voice in his head. 

Keith can't bear to think of how well they've followed the command.

Because here he is, trapped under several feet of water with an unconscious Lance while the others may still very well be under Galra fire. There is little relief to be found in the fact that it's water between them this time, and not galaxies instead. What difference does it make, after all, so long as they're not together? 

Keith tries not to think about it as his vision comes into focus: their whereabouts, their circumstances. What matters right now is breathing life back into the body he has yet to find. Everything else can wait. 

And thankfully, not for long. Only fifty or so feet away, the Blue Paladin floats soundlessly in the ocean's vast expanse, legs leaning towards the ever darker bottom. Keith powers through to his body, nearly choking upon the extra weight when it's added to his back. That Lance would be the one to drown is nothing short of ironic; in fact, it's actually quite cruel, and it angers him beyond words. 

When they finally break the surface, the Red Lion swoops in, opens its jaws, and engulfs them. Lance makes no sound as his body is thrown over Keith's shoulder, then dragged into the cockpit. His uniform is littered with cracks that range from head to toe, and water that gathered in it pools underneath him. Keith pulls off the damaged helmet and breastplate, then places two hands over the unconscious boy's chest. 

The compressions are numbered off in his head: one, five, ten, thirty.

And he never stops to think afterward.

Just breathes as his chapped lips close over Lance's wet ones, and blows. This is all part of a process he was once required to memorize; there's no emotional baggage attached to it. Although Lance may be the most immature, cockassed loud-mouth in existence, none of this negates his value as a friend and a teammate—

—which is why Keith sighs in relief when he finally sputters.

He pulls back, eyes pinched as a little bit of the spit gets in his face. Lance doubles over immediately in an effort to cough all of the water out. There are groans slipped in every now and then, and near the end, he pukes, too. It's at least a good ten minutes before things die down and the boys sit in silence. 

Keith waits with apprehension for Lance to say something, anything. Now that the moment has passed, he has more of an opportunity to overthink it, and he does. It's not every year that you kiss a boy twice, after all. Although he supposes this second experience can't really be called a kiss. It's more a breath of life, or a fountain of air. Temporary sustenance, perhaps. Lance finally turns to look him in the eye, and Keith's breath cuts sharp.

 _You're reading into this too much,_ he silently chides, but unfortunately, he's not the only one.

"What is with you and my mouth?" Lance snaps, annoyingly accusatory. 

Keith retorts, defensive, "I was giving you CPR." He's already _so_ over this conversation, and it hasn't even started.

Lance mumbles something under his breath, then, "Whatever, mullet." Keith has no time to think of a comeback. The Blue Paladin lifts himself from the floor and makes for the exit, one goal clearly on his mind. 

"Your Lion's probably with the others," Keith says, after catching up to him. He matches the taller boy's stride, then looks up to his eyes. They're a nice shade of blue—darker than his uniform, and flecked with a little gray. 

"And?" Lance replies, apparently still put off by the situation. 

"And. . . you should probably stay with me. Until we find it." 

Lance narrows his eyes. "Shiro said to separate and scatter," he insolently counters, then waves a hand between Keith and himself. "This? That's not the definition of either." 

"Neither was me deserting my Lion to save your life," Keith answers, trying but failing to be patient, "yet here we are, miraculously intact." The last words are forced out with dripping sarcasm, and Keith realizes he's tapping into his asshole side pretty fast. The same can be said of Lance, only more on the immaturity front. Both facts point south, south, and unmistakably south. 

 _"Thanks,_ Keith, but in case you forgot, I embody the Water Spirit. I wasn't exactly about to die down there." Lance looks as if the prospect of himself dying is nothing short of impossible. 

"Yeah, well, your nonexistent pulse begged to differ!" Keith snaps. 

Lance hardly bats an eye, instead choosing to adamantly stand his ground. "Man, you must have some serious hearing problems," he says, "because I know I had a pulse the whole time. It was just, I dunno, faint or something." He makes an abstract gesture with his hands, and Keith doesn't know what it is, but something about the lack of definition to it, to _this_ , just sets him off. 

"And how would you know?!" he yells, infuriated. "You were freaking unconscious! What sense would you have had of what condition you were in?!" 

"I—" Lance attempts, and he momentarily flinches back at the glare Keith sends his way, before solidifying one of his own and blurting out, "Why won't you stop kissing me?!" 

"It was _twice_ , you asshat! Get _over_ it!" 

"So you  _do_ admit it was a kiss!" 

"Wha— _No!"_  

"The mullet has literally gone mad, oh my God, I'm in the same room as a freaking _mad man."_  

"I was giving you CPR, Lance!" 

"While trying to make a pass at _me,_ a 100% all-for-the-ladies man!" Lance can't mask the cringe the crosses his features at the thought. 

"I would probably make a pass at _Hunk_ before I did you!" Keith yells back, unable to hide the cringe that surfaces on his face afterward either. 

"Oh, so you're into big guys, huh?" Lance taunts. 

_"No!"_

"Well—whatever! I'm outta here!" The Blue Paladin throws his hands up in a garbled gesture, which only infuriates Keith even more. "Good riddance!" he shouts, making for the cockpit.

Headed in the opposite direction, Lance counters, "Go to Quiznak!" 

"Stop using the goddamn word incorrectly!" 

"Stop— I dunno, breathing!" 

"Says the guy who wasn't breathing twenty minutes ago!" The two of them end up turning back to face each other again, fists balled at their sides in angered (but ultimately noncommittal) stances. A good distance stands between them, and Lance insists, "I was breathing just _fine!"_   

Keith rolls his eyes, then barks, "You know what? Go to Quiznak yourself." 

"Hypocrite!" Lance spits. 

Keith fires back, "Five year old!" 

"Mullet!" 

_"Enough."_

The pair jumps in surprise at the voice, their eyes blowing wide as they come to settle on a particular figure. The cool-and-collected leader of Voltron stands to full height, arms crossed over his unbattered chest. Shiro appears to be alright for the most part, but Keith wonders how it was that he got inside. He might find it in himself to muster the gall to ask later. 

"I go looking for you two to see if you're alive," Shiro begins, "and what I end up finding is even worse. Why am I not surprised?" The Black Paladin presses a hand to his temple and closes his eyes, a calculated breath escaping his lips. Keith can't bear to look him in the eye, but Lance manages a few glances in between trying to stare at the floor. 

"Your Lion is outside with the others," Shiro says with gentle finality, and Lance promptly leaves without another word, hands still fisted. 

Keith opens his mouth as if to explain the whole thing, but Shiro cuts him off: "You don't have to say anything. I'm not looking to pry. Just—figure it out, okay? Whatever it is." He drops his hand, and the look in his eyes throws Keith off a little. It's one of unadulterated concern, just as he ought to expect from the guy. The thought almost makes him smile with relief, but he quickly remembers the shame that came before. 

"Okay," he replies, blankly, unsure of whether the word is meant to please Shiro or trigger something in himself. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Shiro nods, then turns towards the exit. "Meet you back at the castle," the leader says, and he disappears in the same direction as Lance, leaving Keith to his own thoughts. 

 _Whatever it is—whatever **this**  is?  _he ponders. Lance's face flickers briefly before his eyes, and he shakes his head, exasperated.  

He has no idea. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what the fuck this evolved into. I just know that I wanted it posted already, and that I won't mind if you raise some eyebrows at the absurdity. It's after midnight, I'm close to fried. There's not much more that can phase me by this point.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment, be it here or in the tags if you're reblogging from Tumblr (@rvkemeadows)! It would absolutely make my day!


End file.
